Sorrow
by SimonStormcloak
Summary: One day in Last Seed, Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm and leader of the Rebellion, approaches the court of High King Torygg, challenging his legitimacy as ruler of Skyrim. What ensues is a battle for the throne, and only one combatant will leave the room alive...


**_3_****_rd_****_ of Last Seed, 4E201_**

The Blue Palace was silent.

The old castle was completely, and utterly still.

King Torygg sat in his throne, with his wife Elisif at his side. He glared forwards, towards the man before him. The King's court was completely present, save Erikur, a thane, and Torygg's bodyguard, who was dealing with a case of corruption down in the city with the guards.

Ulfric Stormcloak stood, patient, staring at the High King. The Court Wizard, Sybille Stentor, stood at the ready, a frost spell in both hands. She glared at Ulfric, her mysterious yellow eyes squinting.

"Ulfric." Torygg began. "It takes courage that most men don't have to step inside the palace of one that is of the mind to kill you on sight."

"You know why I've come," Ulfric countered. "It's why the guards didn't arrest me."

"I know exactly what you've come for; vengeance is it? For Markarth?"

"One of many reasons."

"And here you stand, challenging my legitimacy as the High King of Skyrim."

"You are not worthy of the throne, you are a traitor."

"Watch your mouth, insurgent." said Stentor, spells at the ready. "Unless you want an ice spike in your throat."

"She's serious." The Steward, Falk Firebeard, interjected. "Don't mess with her."

"You cannot stop me from speaking the truth!" Ulfric boomed.

"Ulfric," Torygg said calmly. "There has to be some way we can work it out."

"There is no chance for negotiation. You have been catering to the Imperials this whole time, and to their Thalmor masters. Any man who will bow down to a bunch of _elves _is no true Nord, and not fit to be the High King of Skyrim!"

"So you will not back down?"

"No. Torygg, I, Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm, hereby challenge you to a duel for the throne of Skyrim."

Torygg sighed.

"Well then." He muttered. "I guess I have no choice but to accept."

"My love, no." Elisif said. "Surely this can be settled without bloodshed?"

"The man said it himself, Elisif. We cannot negotiate. If I don't accept this challenge, then I am not worthy of the throne."

Torygg stood up from his chair.

"Ulfric, it is a sad thought that only one of us will leave here alive. This is your last chance to end this."

"And I decline."

"Then I assume we must start. Sybille, initiate the fight."

"Yes, my liege." Sybille Stentor walked in between the two men. She knew the lines by heart, after hours of rehearsing. One time a beggar had challenged Torygg for the throne, saying he was a corrupt dog. An axe in his brain taught the vagrant a good lesson.

"Here, we gather today to witness a duel between his majesty Torygg, high King of Skyrim, and Ulfric Stormcloak, esteemed Jarl of Windhelm. The survivor of the two combatants will win the duel, and be crowned as the High King of Skyrim, and may choose to appoint a new Jarl. The rules are; no interference, and no surrender. May the fight… " she paused for dramatic effect. "... begin."

Ulfric drew a long, specially crafted sword, made with Nordic Steel.

"You won't use your axe?" Torygg questioned.

"Swords are easier to plunge into the heart of your enemy."

"So be it."

Torygg pulled out an enchanted steel axe, imbued with frost.

Ulfric lunged at Torygg, who blocked and strafed to the side. Torygg took a swing at Ulfric, who hit the axe away and swung, missing by an inch.

"You fight well, sir Stormcloak." Torygg commented.

"It's all in the wrist." Ulfric replied, striking Torygg's axe. Torygg hooked Ulfric's blade with his axe, and Ulfric twisted the sword in a way to make a quick slice on Torygg's chest. Torygg swung, Ulfric blocked, but Torygg quickly withdrew his axe and ducked, striking Ulfric's boot, knocking him back a bit. Ulfric took a hard swing at Torygg, who blocked it, jumping back and raising his axe. He swung it above his head, and brought it down, knocking Ulfric's sword from his hand.

He kicked Ulfric to the floor, hanging his axe by his side as Ulfric panted.

"Is it too late to surrender?" Ulfric chuckled.

Torygg put his boot on Ulfric's chest.

"I'm afraid not. Divines bless your soul, Ulfric. You're a good man."

Ulfric smiled.

"Oh really?"

And that moment, just as Torygg raised the axe to finish the job, Ulfric did something totally unexpected and unpredictable. He shouted.

"_FUS RO!_" He yelled, and the room shook, blasting Torygg against the wall.

"TORYGG!" Elisif screamed. She got up, but Sybille and Falk held her back.

"Let the fight continue," Sybille said. "Remember, no interference."

Torygg moaned. He couldn't move, he felt paralyzed. No doubt his back had been broken when Ulfric had launched him with the voice.

Ulfric approached Torygg, sword dragging along the ground.

"You have mastered the thu'um, it seems." Torygg panted.

"Yes. And now I shall plunge my sword into your heart, and take the throne."

He turned to the court.

"You hear that, court of Torygg? I am the true High King, and now I will put an end to this traitor."

"Go ahead," Torygg said. "Finish it. I will meet you in Sovngarde."

"You too, my _liege_." Ulfric spat.

And before anyone could do anything, Ulfric raised his sword and plunged it into Torygg's heart.

"NO!" Elisif screamed, and ran to the body of her husband, nobody able to restrain her. Sybille stood, stunned by what had happened, Falk at her side.

Elisif's face was teary, and she looked up to glare at Ulfric.

"You..." she uttered. "You MURDERED HIM. GUARDS, KILL THIS MAN!"

At once, the guards surrounded Ulfric. He rushed at the one in front of him, knocking him down and running to the door.

"I won that fight fairly, and now you deny my claim to the throne. Shows what respect the Empire has for tradition." Ulfric yelled before leaping out the door and onto the streets of Solitude.

"My lady," Sybille said, still trying to get over the shock of the High King dying. "Technically, Ulfric won that fight fairly... he has a more legitimate claim for the throne than-"

"Shut up if you value your head." Elisif sobbed.

Sybille was taken aback. Elisif stood.

"By rights, I am the legitimate High Queen of Skyrim, and Jarl of Solitude. And I will avenge my husband."

"But your highness-" Falk interjected, but Elisif cut him off.

"Ulfric is a traitor." she said. "He used the voice unfairly. That's illegal, right Sybille?"

"Well," Sybille began. "There's nothing in the ancient customs about shouting, but it can be assumed that many Nord warriors used the voice to-"

"I don't care. It was unfair. And now my Torygg lies before me."

"You want Ulfric arrested?"

"No."

"I want his head."


End file.
